Suffocated by The Darkness Of Man's Heart
by Clove300
Summary: I wrote this for a English Writing assignment in school, but decided to post it because it actually wasn't that bad. Basically it's a journal entry from Ralph's POV one week after being rescued. I am going to keep adding to it, so if you have any suggestions or find an error/spelling mistake please leave a comment or message me :) Hope you enjoy!
1. Ralph

Dear Journal,

I'm not really sure if I'm doing this right; writing a journal entry. But, my therapist told me I should write about my day, the way I'm feeling, things that happened on the... They said something about it helping me process the traumatic events, and not to worry if it made sense or not. Just to write down anything that came to mind. It does help in a way, I guess.

It's been a week and the other boys and I returned to England. We all thought we would be going home, but after a brief visit with our families we were put in a care centre. All in separate rooms though. We only see each other during our once a week group session, but even then there are guards in case we try to... We, as a group talk about what happened. Or at least thats what they want us to do. Most of the time we just sit there trying not to remember; it hurts too much. But there's almost always one boy who has a fit, and that sets off the rest of us; even the biguns'.

I remember everything, though, as if it had been imprinted in my mind forever. But, when I look back, there's a black veil or mist that covers the memory. It becomes darker and darker, closer to the end of our time on the island, and then completely black. Almost like I was seeing the darkness and desolation for the first time. Almost like it represented our loss of identity.

For the first few days of being back I was in a right state; we all were. The darkness faded into a blur of crying, screaming and begging for our lives, even though the threat was gone. Well, for some, the threat was only a few rooms down. Even the littluns', who were too young to comprehend everything that had happened, could be heard shrieking in the night about a beastie trying to get them.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized Simon was right. There was no beastie; we were the beast. The whole time we slipped farther and farther down the icy path towards savagery, until we were too far gone to care about the things we did. Human life meant nothing, the fire, the conch, being rescued. One by one, they became more and more meaningless, to the point where even now, I'm not quite sure why they were important.

As of now, theres only one thing that I'm sure about; that I'm sorry. For everything that happened. They say it wasn't our fault and that we're only kids. That we weren't truly aware of our decisions; that we didn't know. We did know. We just didn't care. The whole time we didn't think about the things we did. Buried it deep, deep down and locked it away. But now, the lock broke and we're overwhelmed with every bad emotion there is.

I guess I do know two things. The first, is that I am sorry. The second, is that the darkness of man's heart is truly suffocating. I don't know if either of these things will ever go away.

I'm sorry, Birthmark Boy. I'm sorry, Simon. I'm sorry Piggy. I'm just so sorry.

-Ralph

Hello! So I wrote this for an English assignment. The outline was that we had to write a journal entry from the POV of one of the boys, one week after being rescued. As you can see I chose Ralph and I decided to post this because I actually really like it :) I don't know if I will continue it, but If there are any errors/spelling mistakes, kindly point them out and I will fix them.


	2. Jack

Jack Merridew lay on his bed, arms folded over his stomach, staring at the ceiling. His red hair, which used to fall in front of his eyes, had been trimmed and washed so it fell halfway down his forehead. His once light blue eyes that shone livelihood and confidence were darkened and expressionless.

He, along with the other boys had been in a care center for one week now. It was quiet, with only a light murmur of conversation, and all his sheets, floors and walls were white. Even the simple t-shirt and pants he wore were white. Although the place around him was calm and welcoming, his mind was another story.

He was burdened by events and guilt that had collectively began to weigh him down. Now, he had lost his will to fight. Through the whole time on the island he pushed these emotions away, but they had eaten away at him until he was reduced to a lifeless vessel.

His memories of the island were clouded red with the blood lust, delirium, and insanity. They were also blurry, as if they were not his own. As if he were seeing someone else's experiences. And in a way, they weren't his. They were The Chief's. The Hunter's. They belonged to a single part of him, but not his entirety.

A different side of him; the one that everyone has but nobody dares to disturb it. But like almost everyone on that forsaken island, that side of him had been awoken. Worse than Ralph, but not as bad as Roger; nevertheless, awake.

It was still there, he noted. Prowling in his mind, tempting him to let it take over. Reminding him of how it felt to have power. To hunt, to kill. To be unstoppable with no rules, restrictions or boundaries. Just pure adrenaline and drunk with power.

But there was also the side that reminded him why he should be civilized. That made him feel guilty for killing Piggy and Simon. That told him he should apologize to Ralph, though his body made no attempt to journey to the room down the hall. It was his last shred of sanity, pureness and innocence that kept him grounded to the Earth. The one part of his soul that the darkness had not infected.

With these two sides, he constantly fought a war against himself. Emotionless on the outside, but raging on the inside. Debating between right and wrong, easy and hard; savage or civilized. It was a battle that was always being fought. Always there whenever he made a decision.

And as he lay there, eyes fluttering closed with fatigue, he wondered a single question. One that he knew he would never know the answer too, and one that would haunt him for the rest of his life, however long that may be.

Which side will win?

Hello! So I felt inspired and wrote this about Jack! It has a similar outline to the one about Ralph, only in third-person. Also I wrote this pretty late, and only did a quick edit, so if you find any errors, please tell me and I will fix them. I will probably be posting more chapters from different POV'S. Roger will be next for the POV thing, and then I was thinking about a few other ideas (what they would say to each other, what they would say to Piggy and Simon etc). I'm not sure yet, so stay tuned if you are interested! Constructive criticism is always welcomed and if you have any suggestions or prompts, let me know :)


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